Strange things happen sometimes. Two lost dogs on the same day - who’d have thought it? Weird! I’m sure it’s deeply significant, something to do with cosmic synchronicity, but I can’t quite work how it fits.

Dog #1.

A kelpie cross, belonging to the folk over the road. A perfectly nice dog, but more than a bit silly,  downright skittish in fact. I’d just pulled out of the driveway and there she was - trotting happily down the middle of the road. When I called her she ran. Hmm… So I whipped out my shiny new iPhone and rang. “Hello?” said a male voice, very cautiously. It was my neighbour all right, but he was in Malaysia. Malaysia? Never mind, he said, he’d contact his wife and take care of it, so I drove off to work, pondering the wonders of modern technology.

This isn’t her, but she looks very much like this.

Dog #2.

I heard My Beloved drive into the garage the same night. Then his voice, talking to someone - protesting. Then yelling my name at the front door. When I opened up, there he was, with his arms full of parcels he’d picked up from the post office, accompanied by an enormous German Shepherd. The dog was perfectly self-possessed and extremely friendly. In no uncertain terms, it wanted to come in, so it did, shoving past both of us like a big furry bear. I was laughing too hard to stop it and My Beloved had his hands full. Puss leaped to the top of the table with his eyes like saucers and every whisker quivering. Thankfully, Visitor Dog didn’t see him and our own dog was happily oblivious, playing in the backyard.

Yes, I know this is Inspector Rex (he’s a German police doggy detective, in case you didn’t know), but our visitor looked like she could have been his sister, with the same intelligent handsome face. She was certainly just as self-possessed.

Eventually, we got a lead on her and took her home - or rather she took me. I was pulled along behind like a kite on a string. She lives down the road in  the other direction, and her people were very glad to see her.

Strange though, I’m still trying to work out what it all means. Any ideas? Oh, and remind me to to tell you all about the return of Snakey.

A few weeks ago, I attended a school reunion. No, I’m not telling which one! Let’s just say it’s been a while.

I’m not one of those people who has a problem with reunions. I was happy at school, not bullied, not teased, successful academically, a hopeless swimmer, vaguely athletic.  Looking back, I was a pretty insular child, but there was a kind of innocence in that.

This isn’t my reunion, by the way. I went to all-girl school, but it’s representative of the spirit, I think.

Physically, there were changes - more flab, more wrinkles, gray hair. (Although there were a lot more blondes than I remember. Very suspicious. LOL) Generally speaking, as long as you do your hair much the same and haven’t gained or lost huge amounts of weight, you’re going to be recognisable. The School Captain was a stand-out. I could swear that woman hadn’t changed a bit. It’s either clean living or she keeps an oil painting in the attic like Dorian Gray.

But personality-wise? Nope, no change. Women whose company I’d enjoyed when we were teenagers could still make me laugh. We squealed and hugged - then picked up we’re we’d left off at the last reunion. It’s fascinating to catch up on the rich tapestry of other’s lives. Children, careers, marriages and divorces. Good health, bad health.

I had a brilliant time and gave out stacks of postcards and fridge magnets. True to form, some were interested in my writing, others couldn’t care less. But they were all supportive. What lovely people.

Have you attended a school reunion? Or do you recoil in horror from the very prospect?

I’m over at Victoria Janssen’s blog for the next few days, discussing what lies beneath.

http://victoriajanssen.blogspot.com/

And no, it’s not what you’re thinking! Honestly!

It’s the writer’s mind I’m interested in. Pretty scary stuff from my point of view, all about revealing the self.

Come and talk to me at Victoria’s. I’d love the company.

3rd November 2009!

What do you think is funny? Humour might be universal, but what makes us laugh isn’t.

Comedian Dan Antopolski has won a prize for the funniest joke of this year’s Edinburgh Fringe. The funnyman, who has previously been nominated for the Perrier award, picked up the trophy from TV channel Dave.

Nine comedy critics sat through thousands of jokes before choosing 27 for viewers to vote on.

The Top 10 jokes were judged to be:

• 1. Dan Antopolski - “Hedgehogs - why can’t they just share the hedge?”

• 2. Paddy Lennox - “I was watching the London Marathon and saw one runner dressed as a chicken and another runner dressed as an egg. I thought: ‘This could be interesting’.”

• 3. Sarah Millican - “I had my boobs measured and bought a new bra. Now I call them Joe Cocker and Jennifer Warnes because they’re up where they belong.”

• 4. Zoe Lyons - “I went on a girls’ night out recently. The invitation said ‘dress to kill’. I went as Rose West.”

• 5. Jack Whitehall - “I’m sure wherever my dad is; he’s looking down on us. He’s not dead, just very condescending.”

• 6. Adam Hills - “Going to Starbucks for coffee is like going to prison for sex. You know you’re going to get it, but it’s going to be rough.”

• 7. Marcus Brigstocke - “To the people who’ve got iPhones: you just bought one, you didn’t invent it!”

• 8. Rhod Gilbert - “A spa hotel? It’s like a normal hotel, only in reception there’s a picture of a pebble.”

• 9. Dan Antopolski - “I’ve been reading the news about there being a civil war in Madagascar. Well, I’ve seen it six times and there isn’t.”

• 10. Simon Brodkin (as Lee Nelson) - “I started so many fights at my school - I had that attention-deficit disorder. So I didn’t finish a lot of them.”

The judges sat through an average of 60 comedy performances each before creating a shortlist of 27 jokes.  More than 3,000 comedy fans voted, with almost 18% choosing Antopolski’s one-liner. Antopolski said: “I’m delighted to get the prize. Although I have won things before at the Fringe, this definitely means the most to me and that it should unite my loves of hedgehogs, comedy and Dave makes this prize very special.”

The judges also listed some of the worst jokes at this year’s Fringe.

• Frank Woodley - “I phoned the swine flu hotline and all I got was crackling.”

• Alistair McGowan - “I’ve just split up from my girlfriend, which is a shame, because it was a long-standing arrangement. Perhaps if we’d sat down a bit more…”

And here for the hell of it, is a spiny echnida, the Australian equivalent of a hedgehog. It’s a marsupial and it eats ants and termites. Cute little beastie.

I really like the top three. I guess because they’re clever, and that always appeals to me. What about you?

 It’s newsletter time, which means…

Rackety Kate and the Pirates

Chapter 23

Racing the Clock

The story so far:
Duka is proving remarkably recalcitrant about his submission. The time he promised is slipping away when Harley has an inspiration.

You can read all of Kate here – http://www.deniserossetti.com/kate.html

Kate locked her ankles in the small of Jack’s back and wrapped her arms around his neck. With a luxurious wriggle, she ground down harder on the magnificent length inside her. God, he was buried so deep, she swore she could feel him under her heart. Only then did she follow his gaze.

Her mouth dropped open. Who cared if this was a dream? She’d never forget it - ever.

His hands chained above his head, Duka knelt in the centre of the floor like some pagan sacrifice, his taut body an offering to the dark gods of lust. His head was tilted right back, the Duchess leaning over him, his head cradled in her pale hands, feasting on his mouth. Chan sprawled in front of him, propped up on a pile of pillows, slightly in profile to Kate and Jack, out in the garden. The position meant Kate could see the necklace of dark bruises decorating the smooth strong column of this throat. It also meant she could observe his Adam’s apple bob as he fought to swallow Duka’s fabulous girth. Kate’s mouth watered, just looking. She couldn’t imagine what effect the sight must be having on the Duchess, but every few seconds, the other woman flicked a glance at the tableau from under her downswept lashes. Duka eyes were tightly shut and beads of sweat dotted his brow. His chest heaved with the force of his respiration.

***

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